


Draco POV

by SignUp



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-21
Updated: 2016-10-21
Packaged: 2018-08-23 19:08:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,913
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8339275
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SignUp/pseuds/SignUp





	

Draco was ecstatic finally the big day was there. He had finally received the owl with his Hogwarts letter and now he was in Diagon Alley to buy his supplies. Most importantly he would finally get his own wand. Not a baby practice wand, but a real grown-up one. But that would be the final item to conclude the tour. At the moment he was standing at Madame Malkins and was fitted for school robes while his parents were busy buying his books and other supplies. He would have much rather joined them and picked out everything himself, but his father despised the pre-school rush in the shopping district and Diagon alley at all. He would have much rather gone to one of the more exclusive revenues, but the school code was clear. Everyone had to get the robes at Madame Malkins to avoid discord between the students. And since Mr. Ollivander was really the only acceptable choice for buying a wand anywhere in GB it was decided that all missing items would be procured here. Of course he already had all the potions equipment needed (and much more) at home curtesy to his godfather Severus who was coincidentally also the Potions Professor at Hogwarts. Draco had been tutored in potions by him for as long as he could remember.  
He was brought out of these thoughts by the bell announcing a new customer had entered the store. Shortly after a petite boy was ushered by Madame Malkins to stand next to him to be measured. He looked really too young to already be sent to Hogwarts. Of course his parents had raised him to know that questioning a stranger would be considered rude. But nothing was wrong with starting an innocent talk.   
“Hullo, Hogwarts too?” he started. It never hurt to volunteer information when hunting for some himself.  
Huge emerald eyes met his and he had to revise his estimation of the others age. While he hardly reached his own chin and looked thin enough to be blown over by a strong wind, those eyes held a hint of suffering that did not fit with the picture of an innocent little boy. Letting his focus stray from those captivating eyes, he noticed the haggard look of the others face. It looked half starved, but that could not be. He lived in GB one of the wealthiest countries in the world. Even if the boy’s parents did not earn enough money to put food on the table, the government would jump in and provide. So there must be a different explanation. Maybe the unknown boy had been sick recently and lost weight due to the sickness.  
“Yes” came the monosyllable answer.  
He must be shy, Draco thought. I will have to gain his trust before I can find out more.   
“My father’s next door buying my books and mother’s up the street looking at wands.” He tried to make the statement as non-committed as possible to not seem too eager. But it was hard. He would have loved to ask all kinds of questions of the other boy. Starting with his name and why he was so thin, but he dared not seem uncultured. He wanted the other to become his friend and not be disgusted with his absent manners. He decided that some bragging might help get the others attention. If he could just make him interested in himself as well, they could surely get to know each other before school started. Maybe he could even invite him to the Manor.  
“I’m going to drag them off to look at the racing brooms. I don’t see why first-years can’t have their own. I think I’ll bully father into getting me one and I’ll smuggle it in somehow.”  
Of course Draco knew that his father would not be moved to look at brooms that day. He only wanted to leave Diagon Alley as soon as possible. But with his other friends it always paid off to act as if he could make his father do as he wanted. The truth was that his father was really strict. Draco had to really achieve something great to be rewarded. This had led to Draco being the best in his studies so far. Every time his private teachers would recommend his success to his father, Draco would then receive an expensive gift. Of course his friends did not know that. No. He had convinced them, that his father gave him what he wanted, when he wanted it.  
The other boy still had not reacted to his bragging as he had expected. Not wanting to loose the chance to talk to this mysterious boy he decided that after giving so much information about himself he could now ask a direct question.  
“Have you got your own broom?” best stick to the current topic. And this question was innocent enough not to be considered too inquisitive or bad mannered.  
“No.” was the answer. Again no further explanation. Slowly Draco grew a bit pensive. How could he get the other boy to really pay attention to him.  
“Play Quidditch at all?” he tried again.  
“No.”  
His father had always made sure, that flying in general, but also Quidditch was part of his curriculum. As well as in the other subjects Draco had made sure to make his father proud, so maybe he could impress the other boy with his success. It was worth a try.  
“I do – Father says it’s a crime if I’m not picked to play for my house, and I must say, I agree. Know what house you’ll be in yet?” There he had shown how successful he was on a broom and made sure to own up to his success. Mother always says that confidence was attractive. But he did not want to seem obnoxious, so he followed it up with another question about the other boy. Maybe Quidditch was just the wrong topic.  
“No.” was the only answer.   
Trying to keep the conversation going and becoming quite anxious that the other boy could not like him, he tried to interpret additional meaning into the others answers and to keep talking accordingly. His mother always used that trick with Mrs. Goyle and Mrs. Crabbe. It always made the other women feel more intelligent as if they had really said these interesting things. His mother said it was always important to help the other person in a conversation feel good.   
“Well, no one really knows until they get there, do they, but I know I’ll be in Slytherin, all our family have been – imagine being in Hufflepuff, I think I’d leave, wouldn’t you?” OK, now he had made sure to the other boy that he was a pure-blood, just in case that the other valued such a fact. He knew quite a few of his father’s friends attached great value to people’s blood status. He also made the joke about Hufflepuff. His mother always joked about him being in Hufflepuff, because he had such a kind heart, but his father had made clear, that he ould take him out of school, if he was really sorted into that house. He really hoped that thnot happen. He wanted to stay in Hogwarts and get to know this boy better. He was really intrigued by him. He looked so out of place and uncertain, that he just wanted to embrace him, and assure him, that all would be good. He was himself surprised by this urge. But the other brought out his protective side.  
A knock on the window made him look there and the creature (there was really no other description that fit that moving mountain of hair) scared him a bit.   
“I say, look at that man!” he exclaimed quite loudly and immediately grew ashamed of his outburst.  
“That’s Hagrid, he works at Hogwarts.” Said the other boy.  
Finally he got more than one syllable out of him. Now he just had to keep going. But what to say. Had his godfather never mentioned that guy? He was sure he knew about all of the staff. Then it hit him.  
“Oh, I’ve heard of him. He’s a sort of servant, isn’t he?” He had remembered a story of his godfathers, where he had sent this man out to fetch potion ingredients out of the forbidden forest for him.  
“He’s the gamekeeper.” The other boy explained.   
Gamekeeper? He had never heard the term from his godfather. But now he remembered more of his stories. Apparently he lived, unlike the rest of the staff, outside of the castle in a little wooden hut without running water. He did not even on house elves. He had never heard of a more miserable existence. He felt bad for that man. He was afraid though, that the other boy would make fun of him for his soft heart.  
“Yes, exactly. I heard he’s a sort of savage – lives in a hut in school grounds and every now and then he gets drunk, tries to do magic and ends up setting fire to his bed.” While talking he watched the other boy stiffen. Too much? In order not to appear to soft, he had just quoted his godfather Severus about that guy.  
“I think he’s brilliant.” The other boy stated firmly.  
Even if he felt sorry for the big guy, to call him brilliant was a bit far-fetched. He studied him again and saw that he was apparently waiting for the boy beside him.   
“Do you? Why is he with you? Where are your parents?” he was really a bit concerned about the other boy. By all accounts the Hagrid guy was not the most responsible person and what mother would leave her kid with someone like that?  
“They’re dead.” Was the short answer.  
Oh. Draco felt sorry for the boy beside him. He could not imagine being without his parents. So maybe that Hagrid as some relative of the boy. Or maybe he had just been sent to show the boy around. Did he know anything about the wizarding world?  
“Oh sorry,” it came out a bit distractedly, because Draco was already three steps further in his thoughts. “ But they were our kind, weren’t they?” he really hoped not. Then he could introduce the boy to all sorts of things in their world. Show him how everything worked. Oh how he longed to do that.  
“They were a witch and wizard, if that’s what you mean.” The other boy said coldly.   
He knew that voice of tone. His friend Pansy always used that tone when someone dared suggest she was anything but from a pristine background. And he knew the sort of platitudes that always appeased her:  
“I really don’t think they should let the other sort in, do you? They’re just not the same, they’ve never been brought up to know our ways. Some of them have never even heard of Hogwarts until they get the letter, imagine. I think they should keep it in the old wizarding families. What’s your surname, anyway?”  
There, that should appease the other boy and finally satisfy Draco’s curiosity to at least get the name of this boy. Before he could get an answer they were interrupted by the store owner and the other boy left without giving at east that little Information. Draco sadly noticed that he had already been done for quite a hile and left the store with a heavy heart.


End file.
